TO DENY A LUNA
Instead, I simply nod toward my son and say quietly, “He’s all I have.”
His expression shifts, softening with understanding. “So, they abandoned you, right? Because you’re unmated?” The words hit like a sharp sting. I nod again, swallowing the lump in my throat, eyes fixed on the floor.
“My mother raised me alone too,” he continues softly. “She wasn’t a rogue like you though. She was a widow. Dad died, and she managed everything by herself. Had the pack behind her, at least. It must be so much harder when you have no one to lean on at all.”
Bab Populer